Poetic Justice
by lrigD
Summary: Now a two-shot, spoilers for 3x22 To Love and Die in LA - you know the scene! Castle and Beckett think about what just happened, and one of them decides to take action.
1. Chapter 1

**_Just saw 3x22 To Love and Die in LA for the first time, and I loved it. I loved it so much, in fact, that it inspired me to write my first-ever Castle one-shot takes place after that night in Castle's studio when they have a 'moment' on the couch - Beckett ends it, goes into her room and then, after hesitating, goes back into the living room to meet Castle - but he's just gone to his room. My description doesn't do that scene justice, it really touched me for some reason. Anyway, this one-shot takes place after that scene. First part is in Beckett's point of view, second part in Castle's. Just trying them out!  
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**_Don't own Castle, in case you hadn't figured. (Can anybody tell me whether these disclaimers are really necessary?)  
><em>**

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><p>She stared at the door for hours after she'd closed it again.<p>

Had this been that elusive window of opportunity, a window she had missed? Had that, maybe, been their one chance together? Back home, there was Josh. There was work and its demanding schedule, and there would be little time for… _anything_.

Here, it was _them_. And yes, Royce' s murder haunted her, but his words did, too. _You and Castle have something real._

They did. For all their teasing, joking comments and playful banter, she knew they worked well together. She knew that what they shared was something that was not often seen with the police, let alone anywhere else. Their individual talents merged flawlessly to create one strong crime-fighting duo, and it _worked_.

Which was why she was so afraid she would lose it.

She'd been _so_ close, tonight. That moment after she had first closed the door, she had been incredibly torn up. To go back into the living room and simply _be_ with him seemed amazing, wonderful. It was what she, if she was completely honest with herself, had been wanting for a while. It was what she dreamt of at night, far more than she did of Josh. She knew it was not fair to him, either.

Josh … Josh was perfect.

But not for her.

Kate wasn't one for sweeping statements, but she had a feeling that the man who was asleep only two doors away, the man she'd shared a moment with tonight and the man who's helping her catch the murderer of her mentor, her friend _-I was in love with you- _- that that man would be more perfect for her than Josh had ever been.

He lay awake for hours after they'd gone to bed.

So close – they'd been so close. He hadn't meant for it to happen, any of it. He just wanted her to smile again, to have a moment with her that wasn't consumed by Royce, by death. _A moment with the living_.

He'd been frightened by his own honesty – and after that, even more by her own. It had been as close as they'd ever been – until she'd stood up.

He didn't blame her. She was afraid, he knew, and so was he. She was wondering about Josh, and work, and he couldn't help her with that, not really. Hell, he wasn't even sure if _he_ was ready for it, let alone she. There were so many things to consider, so many paths that could be taken. He knew that, for his part, he'd felt this way for a long time – but what about her? She _was_ with someone else, after all. And even though he was fairly certain that on that couch earlier, he hadn't even crossed her mind, he was still a factor.

He sighed. He wished he could just go out there and into her room, to simply _be_ with her. He wanted to kiss her and tell her that the pain of Royce's death would pass, and only leave a small mark in the end. He wanted to make her smile and look at him with that fond twinkle in her eyes, the one that said 'I'm not really annoyed with you, I'm just pretending.' He just wanted _her_, and it pained him to think that that moment on the couch had been their only opportunity.

It simply couldn't be. Back home, there was Josh and her regular life, and it would leave no more room for him than it had before.

He felt himself falling deeper every day and he didn't even care anymore. He was lost; lost in her eyes when she smiled at him, lost in her words whenever she talked.

He was lost, but if this was how it felt, he didn't ever want to be found.

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><p><strong><em>Cheesy final line, I know, but I couldn't find another way to close.<em>**

**_Did I do Castle and Beckett justice? _**


	2. Chapter 2

**_Well, it took me a while, but I was re-watching 3x22 tonight and I've been feeling an intense urge to write_ something_ lately, so here it is._**

**_Just realized Beckett actually uses the words 'Poetic justice' in the episode. Hmm, subconscious messages anyone?_**

**_I just fell in love again with Castle tonight. Can't wait for next season!_**

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><p>It took her three hours before she succumbed.<p>

She'd spent those three hours waiting in vain for sleep to come, her mind whirring with thoughts of Royce, Castle, Josh – and everything in between. Usually, she had little trouble with turning her thoughts off in order to sleep, but tonight, sleep simply escaped her.

What had just happened between them?

In that moment, that one moment, it had all seemed possible. His words showed her how they'd changed over the years, and suddenly, she'd been able to see their paths quite well. If she was completely honest, she thought, there had always been a small part of her that knew how they were going to end up.

But then he had tilted his head slightly, just slightly, in a way that made her wonder if _he_ was sure of this. His words had been wonderful, but were they enough for her to ignore the stories about him, his two divorces, his playboy-image? The doubts had prompted her to quickly leave, but as she closed the door to her bedroom, she could've hit herself. Who was she to trust strangers' stories, or judge him on his divorces without knowing the full story?

She _knew_ Rick Castle. She knew the man behind the writer; of course, they were inextricably linked, but he was a very different person in public nonetheless. She knew him in private; she knew the love he had for his daughter, his passion for writing, his determination to see justice. She'd seen him happy, angry, depressed – she'd seen him in so many ways, and they were still working together. Didn't that prove enough?

But when she'd opened the door again, his had closed. (A _very_ literal way of interpreting 'when one door closes, another one opens', she'd thought around one a.m.)

And now, she knew she needed to talk to him.

As she opened her door again and walked across the living room, determinedly, not giving herself time to doubt, she had little thought of what she was going to say. She didn't even wonder if he was asleep; somehow, she knew he wouldn't be, that he'd be up just like her.

She knocked on his door and he opened it in an instant, almost as if he'd been waiting behind it. Her heart quickened as she considered the possibility that he'd been about to go to her own bedroom. Had he reached the same conclusion she had, had he felt the same need to just _talk_ to him?

It took her a moment to realize he was staring at her, and she shook her head slightly to clear her mind.

"I, uh, I'm sorry for taking off like that earlier." When she dared to glance at him, he was studying her with the same intense gaze he had on the couch earlier. After her words, he shook his head.

"No, _I_'m sorry," he emphasized. "You've got a lot going on, I shouldn't have gone overboard like that." He gave her a typical Castle grin, though it wavered slightly. "I just wanted to tell you."

"I – Thank you," she said softly. She didn't quite know how to continue. She knew they needed to talk, and they needed to do so soon, but they were investigating a personal case, and she was pretty sure they couldn't use any distractions.

Still… this limbo relationship _was_ distracting her.

"So, why'd you come to see me?" Castle asked, breaking the silence. "Can't sleep?"

"Neither can you, apparently," she retorted, pointing at his bed, which looked as if he hadn't even touched it.

"Guess we're both insomniacs, huh," he said, far too cheerfully for the time of night.

"Guess so," she agreed. They lapsed into silence once more, still standing at his bedroom entrance.

God, this was awkward, she thought. Why was it so hard to make things easy? One look, maybe twenty seconds, and their relationship had changed to something else. Not quite lovers, but no longer friends either. She wished there was something she could do to dissipate the tension that was currently radiating between them.

Taking an impulsive decision, she stepped forward on her toes and touched her lips to his. He froze instantly, staring at her wide-eyed. She could see the questions in his eyes, questions she wasn't ready to answer. Not yet.

She moved away just as she felt him relax. As much as she wanted, she couldn't stay with him here. It would lead to things neither of them were ready for emotionally (though she was ready to admit they were definitely ready physically).

"Soon," she whispered in answer to his unspoken question.

He nodded, still wide-eyed, and she knew he understood that she couldn't take this on top of everything else. He understood that now, Royce was more important. He was part of her past, and she needed to find justice for him.

Maybe, after that, she could focus on the future.

"Good night, Rick," she told him in a voice that was slightly huskier than she'd intended. She turned to walk to her own room and this time, he didn't say her name to make her stop.

And this time, she didn't stand silently behind the door, wondering if she'd done the right thing.

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><p><strong><em>I know Beckett's still in a relationship with Josh at this point (though I only remembered as I was reviewing - yeah, that's how much the guy means to me xD), and let's just use that to explain why she left when she did. <em>**

**_I usually don't like to write things that aren't canon, and this quite definitely isn't, so I'd love to receive your opinions on this!_**

**_Hope you enjoyed :)  
><em>**


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